The people of Wondai clearly were impressed. No-one sat near them as they sat facing everyone else, side by side, in the front, right in the middle. If this was a kingdom, they were king and queen. A wedding – the bride and groom. I was surprised no-one stopped to genuflect on their way to the salad bar.
But I had so many questions and I was so confused. The wait was killing me, all that time to worry. We were going to be Grey Nomads, part of a group, our own senile gang of peeps, united by the fact we would be the most hated people on the road. What is a Nomad anyway? Is it just a mistake that “Mad” is part of the word?
When we talked about doing something fun next week, his first suggestion was always the caravan show at … (insert the name of any god forsaken little town in Australia you want here) and that is where we went. I had a whole section of my closet set aside for caravan viewing outfits.